My boss and fiancee

We’re not going to follow the rules.

"Grandpa, what are you doing here? " exclaimed Isabella.

Mr. Meyer, in his impeccable suit and hawk-like gaze, entered the room as if he owned the world (which, technically, he did). Beside him, James wore an expression somewhere between displeasure and drama, as if he were in the finale of a soap opera. Behind them, a entourage of seven people seemed to follow their every move.

"How dare you speak like that? " James snapped, his voice trying to sound intimidating but coming off more like a sulky teenager. " Grandpa deserves more respect!"

The grandfather raised a hand, knowing his grandchildren well, if they started, they’d never stop.

"I came to see how the team was doing" he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, as if he were enjoying the situation.

—It’s fantastic —Isabella replied with a smile sharp enough to cut diamonds—. We’re getting along wonderfully. Thanks, James, for putting together this… what should we call it? Dream team?

James raised an eyebrow and smirked, licking his lips as if he were about to drop a bombshell.

"I hope you don’t mind working with my girl and one of my best friends from high school" he said, throwing her a look that screamed, “I’ve got you beat.”

"Oh, of course" Isabella replied, feigning interest. "I thought we only hired the most qualified, but I see your selection process is more… inclusive?"

The grandfather let out a dry laugh, as if trying to scare a cat.

"Are you joking? They’re the best in their class, Ivy League graduates" he said, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. "That’s why I hired David. If I wanted second place, I would’ve called you."

That was a low blow, and everyone knew it. David, who had been trying to stay under the radar, felt like he’d been thrown into the center of a boxing ring.

Isabella stood up, exasperated.

"James, you’re right. Why be the best when you can just pay people? That explains why it took you seven years to finish a five-year degree" she said, stepping closer to her cousin with a smile that promised trouble.

The grandfather cleared his throat, as if about to give a wedding speech.

"Enough, kids. We’re in front of people, behave" he said, gesturing for everyone to sit down. "As you know, I’m the owner and founder of this company. I built my wealth through hard work and dedication, and now my grandchildren want to carry on the legacy. You’ll be part of that. That’s why we’re paying you five times more than anyone else in your position."

A collective gasp filled the room.

"That’s insane" murmured the man with rings on his fingers, as if calculating how many yachts he could buy with that salary.

"Some might think so" the grandfather replied with a smile that promised nothing good. "But it’s only fair. You’ll get all the perks: gym memberships, daycare, loans, cars… though everything comes at a price. My grandchildren are competing for a place in the company, and whoever’s on the losing team at the end of two years will be fired. With compensation, of course, but fired nonetheless."

"What if we don’t want to join the other team?" asked a woman, her voice sounding braver than she probably felt.

The grandfather’s smile twisted into a grimace.

"We don’t tolerate disloyalty. If you try to join the competition, not only will you lose our recommendation, but we’ll also call all our allied companies to let them know what kind of employee you are" he said, his tone making it clear he wasn’t joking.

After that, no one dared to ask more questions.

"Now, I want to get to know you" the grandfather said, looking at them as if appraising cattle.

"My name is Clara" said a woman with a smile that seemed too perfect. "I’m at the top of my class in Law at Harvard. I’ve worked with law firms, and, well, I’ve been dating James for eight months."

The grandfather gave her a look that said, “You’re not the first gold digger trying to join the family.”

"I’m Christopher" said a man with a wolfish grin. "I was first in International Business at Stanford, and I work with a multinational. My specialty is sales, and I’ve been friends with James since high school."

David felt like he was in a popularity contest.

"I’m David" he said, trying to sound confident. "First in Economics at Columbia, captain of the soccer team, and, well, Isabella’s classmate in college."

"I’m Veronica" said a petite, curvy woman. "I graduated in Business Administration from Cornell. I’m married and have twin children."

"Joe" said a man with a gruff voice. "I studied Accounting at a community college and managed a transport company for fifteen years. I’m single, but I have a daughter."

"Lucy " said a woman with a mischievous smile. "I studied Marketing at a local school, but I’ve managed social media for bands like Kiss and Metallica, and artists like Shakira."

Everyone fell silent, impressed.

James had a team of experienced, high-quality individuals, while Isabella had a group of ambitious young professionals willing to sell their souls for money. The grandfather seemed to enjoy the situation, as if he were watching a reality show. “They’re just like their parents,” he thought, remembering how his eldest son, James’ father, ran his division with an iron fist, while Isabella’s father was a kind man who never fired anyone.

"Now that both teams know each other" the grandfather said, breaking the silence with a voice that rumbled like thunder, "you can start working together. I’ll take my leave now."

He gestured with his hand, as if dismissing his subjects. The room filled with murmurs and furtive glances as the teams regrouped.

Isabella sat for a moment longer, pondering the situation. It wasn’t the team she had wanted, but it was a strong one. She had grown up watching her father motivate employees not with money, but with recommendation letters for universities, mortgage payments, vacations to paradise-like destinations, and all sorts of gestures that went beyond material rewards. But now, she had a group of ambitious recent graduates, eager to prove their worth.

She stood up, determined, with a spark of resolve in her eyes that promised fire.

"If what they want is money " she muttered to herself, walking toward her team with firm steps," then I’ll give them so much they won’t know what to do with it."

And with that promise, Isabella knew the real competition was just beginning. But this time, it wasn’t just about winning. It was about showing everyone, especially her grandfather and James, that she was capable of playing dirty if she had to.

"Listen up" she said, looking at her team with an intensity that made everyone straighten in their seats. " We’re not going to follow the rules. We’re going to rewrite them."